19 April 2009

New Ink

There's always been something about the buzz of a tattoo needle that comforts me. After a few times of listening to this sound next door at Scapegoat while having ginger beers at Food Fight, I decided that my birthday present to myself this year would be new ink.

To commemorate about a year of bike commuting and loving Portland, I decided to get the bike route symbol done above my right ankle where I roll up my jeans every morning. The bike route symbols are pretty ubiquitous here. I know that no matter how dark/lost/drunk I am, if I just keep seeing these, I will eventually end up home (or at the Potato Champion, which is close enough). So, no matter how far from Portland I could go, I'll always have a little piece of it to guide me back home. It also reminds me of Biketember and all the crazy bike-related adventures from Allen Hall back at U of I.

I originally wanted it in forest green, but Dylan talked me into black ink because it ages better and doesn't fade.

It smelled clean and of soap when I walked in yesterday to make my appointment. They use Doc Bronner's soap there and try to minimize the amount of waste they throw out by using medically laundered linens. All inks are Vegan (most are anyway, but apparently some use bonemeal).

I was in and out pretty quickly when I got it done at 2:30 today. It was warm, sunny and the door was open to let the fresh air in. The longest I had to wait was for them to clean up the last person and to set up for me. I stood on a chair with my jean leg rolled up as Dylan ran a single blade disposable razor and prepped my leg with alcohol. The razor made a quiet scraping sound as it slid dry against the top dead layer of skin cells, taking whatever hair I never bothered to shave that also never really bothered to grow in the first place. Before any needling was even done, I felt the cool sting of the alcohol rub into my ankle. After a test stencil was put on, I decided I wanted it slightly bigger than it had been, so another stencil was printed and I was good to go.

I read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell again as Dylan ran the machine. My foot involuntarily twitched, and I apologized and said I'd try to stop, but he just said it just came with the territory and that the area he was tattooing was not moving so it was ok. I guess it's like when you're at the doctor and they hit your kneecap with the hammer thingy that makes your leg kick. I had gone in barefoot/flip flops to make things easier, but I've always been a bit self-conscious about my feet. I think even though it was warm out, they were probably cold to the touch from my weird circulation thing where even though the rest of me is okay temperature-wise, my hands and feet feel corpse-like.

I had barely finished three chapters when it was done. I got the usual after-care instructions. Leave the bandage on for four hours, clean it twice a day. Use plain lotion after a couple of days.

And it goes without saying, I shouldn't allow this (NSFW).

It's about time I can take the bandage off... so pictures:




Ok, it's a bit red and gross looking right now (honest, I don't actually have cellulite. the wrinkling is from the surgical tape and sterile bandages), but I think it looks awesome and will look better once it heals.

My parents are sooo gonna kill me...